Poster of a Girl
by TheColdMachine
Summary: Nobody really noticed her at first.
1. Beautiful

AN- Well, I really can't claim to have seen any Namber anywhere. So I decided to fix that. This is the first 'chapter' of a fivepart thing, but I'll be revising the rest of it.

The title was inspired by Metric's awesome song, but not the fic itself.

This chapter really could be K+, but I can't say the same for the rest of the story.

---

The first time he sees her she's seven, hanging from her father's coattails. Her father and his powerful contemporaries are ignoring her. The people around are milling about, socializing, dancing, and drinking, and they don't notice her either. Nobody really notices as she slips away, through the crowd.

He's halfway across the room, still at his table. From here he can safely observe Marni, who hovers by Rotti's side. He doesn't really notice Amber either, not until she takes the abandoned chair beside him and makes herself at home. He looks at her and smiles a little, distracted.

_Are you looking at Marni?_

He chokes a little on his drink, and puts it back on the table. Was it that obvious?

He notices he didn't call her Mommy, and feels a flicker of hope spark inside. But he's quick to disguise it, quick to deny it.

_Your dad really loves her_. He struggles to keep the sincerity in his voice.

_No_, she returns. She says it absently, watching her shoes as she swings her legs. The chair is too big for her. Nathan is surprised by her answer, but doesn't show it. A little afraid of how perceptive the child is, he looks back to Marni. Then he feels warm fingers on his wrist, touching his watch.

_Daddy has one of these_.

_He's a busy man,_ he replies. _He needs it for his business_. He sees her nod from the corner of his eye. Marni has latched back onto Rotti's arm, and he sighs, looking away. Amber lets go of his watch.

_Are you a busy man?_

He chuckles a little before seeing she isn't smiling. In fact, she looks sad. He shrugs a little. _I suppose so. I'm a doctor_. Nathan hesitates at her crestfallen look. Not wanting to be responsible for an unhappy child, he falls back to that age-old question: _What do you want to be?_

She's looking at her shoes again. Shame or shyness? Her golden curls fall over her cherub face. He feels guilty, and brushes the hair back from her face in time to hear her whisper.

_I want to be beautiful_.

Then he's lost her in the crowd, slipped away before he could say anything. He only notices Marni when she speaks.

_Dr Wallace?_


	2. Stitches

This is a new part that I added, after a long, vicious, drawn-out debate with myself. Not rewritten, but added out of the blue. It ties into another ficlet I wrote (which was supposed to be something else, and was supposed to be this for a time too—it's all dreadfully complicated), but you don't have to read it to get this.

& & &

She's been watching for him for a while, now, and he's trying not to notice. Maybe she's not even looking at him. He's concentrating on the open door. Trying to ignore the pain. Rotti had really twisted the knife in, and he knew how to make it hurt.

And there was the gash in his back. That hurt, too.

Nathan steals a glance, finally. It's hard to believe Rotti was Amber's father. Pigs didn't give birth to swans.

If you look hard enough—not that he has—there are a few similarities. He wonders, if maybe Shiloh will look like Marni. That would probably kill him. Or maybe it would be nice.

The GENtern's taking her time. She'd been about to give him Zydrate, and he'd almost let her. It was pills only for him. Call him old fashioned. She'd said it would take a minute to find some.

Amber is leaning in the doorjamb, quietly staring. Or not staring, he isn't sure.

_Was it Luigi?_

_No._

_Oh_. She sounds a little surprised. He pauses, considers her answer, and then looks at her, a hint of concern in his eyes. Maybe it's not his business. It probably isn't, but he still asks, _Why would you—?_

_It's his sort of thing_. Nathan doesn't really know the older Largo child, but he's heard of his temper. So he nods a little. She's still speaking. _He likes to stick knives in things_. And really, it sounds so matter-o-fact, he can only nod again. Then a thought hits him. And really, he shouldn't care, but he does.

_Has he ever—?_

_No_. She knows what he's asking, and she shakes her head. And that—that she knows—it bothers him.

The GENtern finally comes back, four pills in her hand. She drops them on the table next to him. They look vaguely familiar, but he doesn't bother to look closer before swallowing them dry. The physical pain starts to go away, and the other pain—it doesn't quite leave, but it's easier to ignore. The GENtern is saying something to him, telling him it will hurt.

She starts to clean the wound. Nathan clenches his teeth a little.

_Zydrate would help_. He doesn't need that right now, so he ignores her. She stays.

The stitches are done quickly. It's not a big gash, and nothing inside is cut. Maybe he could have done it himself, but he had still been feeling lightheaded when he'd been brought down. Mag was the one who'd brought him. Or was she? He closes his eyes, trying to remember. Yes, Mag had stayed quiet and supportive, only left when Rotti came by. The man scared her, and Nathan can't blame her.

The GENtern's telling him, _It's done sir_.

Already? His first thought. The pills had kicked in quickly.

And then—'Sir'? He glances at her. Even beneath the mask, he's certain she's older than him. But he shrugs it off, picking his shirt up and pulling it back on quickly. The pills have definitely kicked in now, he can tell, because the buttons are really difficult. He gets one of the middle ones done up. Maybe it's the wrong hole. He works on the one beneath it, then above.

_It looks good like that_. He stops fumbling with the buttons to look up. The GENtern's gone and Amber's still there. Staring. He mutters something, and does up the bottom button. But he leaves the rest of it like it is. Not for her benefit, but because it's too much effort.

It's a good lie, and he believes it.


	3. Business

The elevator makes a soft sound as it arrives, and the doors open to the empty chamber. Well, almost empty. There's the mirror, and some posters on the side wall. He looks over it twice before stepping in.

The posters are for GeneCo, and all four of the Largos are on them. As the elevator starts to move up, his eyes linger on one in particular.

Her face isn't familiar, but he knows who it is. She's got new something. Traded in the little girl for something more mature. Maybe the little girl's not all gone, though. He can remember her faintly, through the haze of Marni and Shilo and repossessions and everything else. He doesn't want to lose the memory, and he closes his eyes, trying to find a clear image. Can you lose something you never had?

But he has Shilo. She's safe, and she'll never get lost. Not as long as he's—Nathan opens his eyes.

And the girl plastered on the wall? She's not his to keep or lose. He can't protect her or save her or do anything and he guesses it's better this way. Can't trust a monster.

Maybe if Rotti would just notice her, he might feel less guilty.

That's when the elevator door opens. He feels a little sick. (Never could get used to the new elevators.) Looking up, what he sees doesn't help. Rotti and his spawn are there, and she's half-draped across one of her brothers, and both look idly over at him as he leaves the elevator.

Their eyes follow him, like predators on their prey, but he's here for business. Strictly business. The case goes on the desk, and Rotti asks how Shilo is.

_Good_, and he drops the packaged lung on the wood surface. Luigi makes a small sound behind him at the splat of fresh organs, and he turns to look at the young man. Luigi's smiling, and staring at the bag like it's full of candy. Amber's stood up, but he doesn't look at her. Strictly business. Eyes off of the children, back to their father.

Rotti's smiling, and it's the predatory, hungry look in his eyes that makes Nathan shiver. He's saying, _You should bring Shilo by sometimes_. Rotti _would love to meet_ his little girl. He feels a little sick again. Then the older man looks behind Nathan, the hunger replaced by a bitter glower. There's the faint shuffle at his back: Amber moving away, returning to the shadows.

None of his business.

Abruptly—from Rotti—_Good_, and he's examining the lung. A hint of Luigi's excitement buried deep in those eyes, and Nathan can't look for very long. Turning a little, ignoring the children, he examines the cement walls. An empty picture frame in the corner catches his eye.

Rotti dismisses him, and Nathan glances back, takes the carrying case. Business, and then he turns and leaves. From the shadows with her brother, she smiles, a little smile that reminds him of the little girl. But in the elevator, as he heads down, he still doesn't quite recognize the face on the poster.


	4. Lessons

Thank you, everybody, for your reviews! They're greatly appreciated ^^

Belated chapter four is finally here!

On a completely, entirely, absolutely unrelated note, I can't wait until school's out.

Anyways.

I've decided to use quotes for speech now, like a normal person.

**& & &**

At sixteen she hits the streets, seeking a new source of entertainment.

(It's entirely a coincidence that he can see her from the shadows, but he decides to stay and watch.)

Entertainment comes in a little glass vial. Toxic-blue that's visible from where he stands in the alley's non-light.

She's not stupid enough to spend her father's money on this new addiction. It won't stop her, though. Zydrate makes everything else seem a little less important with each hit. Nathan's heard the stories from addicts, sputtered out in an attempt to save their sorry skins. It never saved them, and never swayed him.

_You're a cold bastard_.

He's too distracted to answer himself. She may not have money, but she has tactile assets that she can trade instead.

_Slutty_. Thrifty, he counters, a smirk ghosting his features.

_She's a cheap whore_. _Look!_

Nathan's already looking (probably shouldn't be). Curiosity keeps him confined to the endless shadows. From here, he can look, he can watch, think. He can do whatever he damn well pleases. _Anything?_ Anything, but he just waits.

"Hey man," and something touches his shoulder. Can't be older than thirteen, he thinks. The girl leans forward, trying to get close to his ear. He's a good foot taller than her, though, and her obscene whispers, blatant offers, don't quite make it to his ears before he turns and glares. She's looking at his coat, her hand wandering over it. Balancing on the edge of the cliff.

He grabs her wrist before she can jump.

She says something. _Hurt me_. No, that's not it. She tugs her hand, and he lets go . The girl scurries off into the night. Nathan smiles. Turns back to watch the other girl in the alley.

Street-grade zydrate is a powerful thing. It's rarely cut down, like the clinical-grade stuff. The transition, the jump, is easy for some; a topple into a gorge for skinny pampered teenagers like Amber.

Quite a literal topple, he notes. She underestimates the drug, and overestimates her ability to handle it on six-inch heels.

The drug peddler disappears, leaving her alone.

Alone with him.

_Lucky bitch_.

Nathan turns and starts to leave, but doesn't stop himself when he finds himself doubling back. It's starts raining a few seconds before he kneels down beside her. She looks like she's out cold, but when a raindrop hits her cheek, she blinks a little, and smiles.

She slurs something (the sky's falling?) and he ignores it.

Leaving her here wouldn't be that difficult. But he can't, can he?

_Because—_of Rotti. Rotti would have his heart on a plate if Nathan left Amber here. Right? He begins to scoop the girl up.

Pure motives, he reminds himself as he glances at the skirt. Not selfish ones.

In the cover of the shadows, protected form the rain, he brushes her hair out her face with one hand.

She doesn't open her eyes, but manages a fairly clear 'Hey' before going limp.

Nathan stands still, a chill reaching him at the feeling of the unconscious weight. Dead weight. He closes his eyes, but it only makes it worse, and when he opens them there's a bit of moisture there. Damn rain. He pulls in a breath, ignores his involuntary shudder, and leaves the past where it belongs as he leaves the alley.

Rusty-orange, flickering street lights lead him down empty streets, to the GeneCo building.

He leaves the girl with a pair of Genterns.

Maybe that will teach her.


	5. Pretty Birdy

& & &

He wonders maybe if Rotti put her up to it. He wouldn't put it past the man.

Then Nathan pauses, and shakes his head a little. As a father, he couldn't imagine anybody, even Rotti, prostituting their own child. That thought makes him uncomfortable. Reminds him that under all the makeup, beneath the wigs and transplants and grafts, she's still somebody's little girl.

A little girl who hides in the shadows, and who wants to be pretty, who nobody really notices.

That reminder of innocence, that refrain, had been good. It had worked for him for a long time.

And then she'd gone and fucked that up, like everything else.

Looking at the stage rehearsal, Nathan avoids centrestage. Amber, of course, is there. He looks at the backdrop. It's well done. Too bright for his tastes, but then again, it was a happy scene. Upbeat, tropical, exotic.

Amber dances, if it could be called that, back into his field of vision. Entirely too much skin showing.

"Rotti--"

The man holds up a hand. Three times now, he's done that.

Nathan wonders, again, if maybe Rotti's doing this on purpose.

Not for the first time, he wonders if he's just paranoid.

"She's an understudy for this year's Opera. Her idea."

Thinking back to the child who hid in the shadows, Nathan finds himself doubting it.

Amber's stopped singing. The set's moving behind her, and she disappears into the wings.

A familiar face enters from where she leaves.

He hasn't seen Mag in a long time. Not in person. She looks thin and sad, and the set behind her is dark and oppressive. And to top it off, somebody—a stage hand—carries a prop tombstone behind her. Rotti starts talking, but Nathan only catches bits and pieces. Amber's name keeps coming up.

Thinking back, Nathan tries to remember the last time he'd seen Mag. At least a year. Maybe two, or three. For the most part he avoided her. She had that irksome habit of seeing beneath the surface. Seeing things best kept hidden.

From here in the booth, though, he's pretty sure she can't see him. She looks like a shell of what she used to be, and Nathan feels guilt uncoil in his gut. He quickly winds it back up.

Amber appears beside Rotti, and they seem engrossed in their conversation. Nathan takes a few steps forward, placing his hands on the booth's railing. Mag starts to go through various stage directions, rehearsing. He can see her mouth moving like she's practicing her song, but no sound comes out.

Before he can smile at the oddity, something touches his shoulder.

"What do you think, Nathan?"

He turns, glancing up at Rotti and frowning.

"Star material?"

Then Nathan blinks, and notices Amber, a little too close to his side, and quickly nods, like he's supposed to.

"Certainly."

This suits the Largos, and Rotti starts talking to Amber again. An indecipherable expression crosses her face before she turns back to her father. After a few minutes, the pair leave.

Back on stage, Mag starts to warm up her voice. With the dark clothing and the gloomy set, her voice sounds out of place. Too angelic. He drops his eyes briefly to his hands, back on the railing.

She stops the vocal exercises, and looks up. At him. Directly at him. Irrational fear creeps up his spine and smacks him in the head. Hardly even thinking, he backs up until he's out of her sight, until he hits the back wall of the booth.

A long minute passes, and then ten more. He turns to leave the booth. Something stops him. He thinks it looks vaguely human, and then he's being pushed backwards, towards the shadows. A flash of a predator's smile that makes him back up faster.

From the hallway outside the doorway, he hears Mag: "Hello?"

He starts to gently push Amber away, but she shoves him further into the corner.

Mag turns, and the footsteps fade away. She had seen him, as he suspected. That didn't explain Amber, though.

The girl's still wearing that vixen's smile, looks like she just got into the chicken coop, when Nathan looks down at her. She's still got the makeup on, but the costume's gone, and she's only got a robe on. The translucent material is more decoration than anything. Like the rest of her.

He gives her a questioning look, one brow arched. Face devoid of amusement in contrast to Amber's. She leans up a little and whispers, "Saved you."

Then she slithers off him and leans at the doorway of the booth.

"Now you owe me."

She disappears. Nathan takes a moment to steady his nerves, but before he can make any progress, Rotti slips back into the booth, a heavy folder in hand.

"I have a big job for you."


End file.
